


The Babysitter

by Sarunamii



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 02:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarunamii/pseuds/Sarunamii
Summary: Oneshot.  John didn't always leave the boys alone while he was away.  Sometimes he left them with her...





	The Babysitter

The first time he left them with her, the boys pouted and acted like any children would when left with a new babysitter. John quickly put it out of his mind as he focused on the hunt. Three days later he wrote off Dean’s scowl and Sam’s uncharacteristic silence as them being upset that he took longer than he had originally estimated. Whatever the case in the days and weeks that followed it was forgotten and they returned to their normal selves.

Almost nine months later, on the eve of Dean’s tenth birthday, they found themselves once more in that same area of the country. She was staying with the boys in the motel room for an evening with John out the door before either boy had a chance to protest. When he returned later that night, Sam was curled up asleep on the far side of the bed with Dean sitting up protectively between his baby brother and Gloria, a begrudgingly sullen frown decorating his face.

The older boy waited until his father had let her out and then laid down to sleep himself. Too tired to deal with it, John shrugged it off and let it get forgotten once more. Neither brother brought it up the next day, and their father let slide any lingering attitude in favor of celebrating Dean’s birthday.

A few months later Dean had time and warning to fight his father. “But we can go with you!” Dean exclaimed. “I’ll watch out for Sammy – just like I always do!” There was a pleading note in his voice that John missed.

“Dean!” John reprimanded his son. “You know why I can’t take you with me! Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“But, Dad –”

John snapped at his normally so obedient son, “Dean! Stow it! You’re staying here with Gloria. Now get your butt in there and behave yourself!” When Dean still didn’t move, just glared at his father, the hunter grabbed the boy by his arm and dragged him through the front door, Sammy following meekly behind. The boys huddled together on Gloria’s couch, the younger pressed hard against his older brother’s side as their father stepped out of the room with Gloria. “I’m sorry for Dean’s behavior –” he started his apology.

The woman cut him off with an understanding smile, “Oh no, John, it’s hard to get left behind. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of your boys.” She patted his arm companionably continuing, “My father was always away for work, too. It’s hard, but, believe me, he’ll come to understand and appreciate how hard you work for them and how much you sacrifice. Just give it time.”

Grateful for her understanding and insight, John thanked her again and left, still inwardly hoping he would be able to wrap up this hunt quickly. Maybe Dean would more easily forgive him if you returned early.

A week and a half later John drove himself back to her house, almost dead on his feet. He wanted nothing more than a good stout drink and to sleep for a week. Instead, he gathered his subdued sons, thanked Gloria again, and headed towards a motel.

Throughout the next few years, John left the boys with her a handful of times until at the ripe old age of fourteen Dean threatened to take Sammy and run if their father ever dared to leave them with Gloria again. That should have clued the older man in that something wasn’t right, but at the time he had simply yelled exasperatedly back at his son and eventually given in allowing the boys to stay at the latest motel alone, not far from his current hunt.

After that, Dean had almost bent over backwards proving how useful he was while keeping Sam cared for and out of the way. John never left them with her again and any questions he had were pushed aside in the busyness of life and he soon forgot them. It wasn’t until two years later that it all came flying out from under the rug exploding brutally in his face.

Dean had a broken leg and John was seeing stars from a hard blow to the head by a particularly nasty spirit. It was salted and burned, but, despite Dean’s opinion to the contrary, neither were in any condition to travel. Slightly better than delirious, John had called Gloria for help. She only lived an hour’s drive away and she was quick to agree. As she was out with her two brothers, they graciously agreed to come with her so she didn’t have to take longer coming to drop either of them off.

When he broke the news to his sons, instead of being grateful for having the help like John expected them to be, both Sam and Dean turned on him. “My leg is good enough to drive to Uncle Bobby’s!” Dean exclaimed at the same time Sam interjected, “Man up, Dad! Your head is harder than a rock!” There were more protests, but John didn’t hear them over the pounding in his head. Instead he clenched his eyes shut rubbing at his forehead with a weary sigh.

“Sit down, Dean!” John bellowed when he opened his eyes to see his eldest struggling to his feet. “You’re going to end up breaking your neck!” He couldn’t understand all of this hostility his sons were showing for Gloria. She had always been there to help them when they were younger. Maybe he had taught them too well to be self-sufficient. “Gloria’s going to come in here and help us out and I don’t want to hear anything out of either of your mouths except how grateful you are that she, and her brothers, were willing to come help us out! Do I make myself clear?” He glared at both his sons until each mumbled an unhappy, “yes, sir,” back to him.

Gloria and her brothers made it there in record time – only thirty minutes after John had called her. By that point, Sam had plastered himself to his older brother’s side, half-guarding, half-hiding. The older hunter didn’t know which as the woman and her younger brother, Todd, bandaged the knot on his head, medicated, and helped him into the empty bed. The drugs worked quickly and John was out before the other brother, Jeremy, had even made it across the room to check Dean’s leg.

It was almost two days later before John finally woke up from his drugged stupor, Sam sitting close to him on the bed. He blinked at the pale grayish tint of his twelve year old son. “Are you sick?” he asked gruffly, voice still hoarse from sleep.

Sam turned wide eyes towards him. Instead of answering the question the boy pleaded, “Dad, make them bring Dean back.” His voice was barely above a whisper and fresh tears still tracked down his cheeks.

In an instant John was wide awake, pushing himself up to a sitting position, “Dean? Where’s Dean?” 

Gloria was just coming from the bathroom and smiled her sickly sweet smile catching his wild eyes with hers. “Dean’s fine! Jeremy took him out for some fresh air,” she assured him. But something was off. Why had John never noticed that cold insincerity hovering in her core? When her gaze brushed over his youngest, Sam pushed himself into his father’s side and the man could feel the faint tremors indicating the boy’s terror.

Schooling his face into a semblance of normalcy, John stretched his shoulders, “I need to see him.” Until he knew what was going on, he didn’t want to reveal his suspicions and risk them using his eldest against him.

“They should be back soon,” Gloria said glancing at the motel clock dismissively. She reached for him, as if to check his bandages, but John pushed her away grumbling that he was fine while reaching for his shirt hanging from the head of the bed. Through the adjacent wall, he heard the creaking of furniture and an obscene groan. What time was it? He must have really been out of it to pick such a low class motel with his two sons. It was the middle of the day! Then he caught the nervous flicker in Gloria’s eyes as she chattered away at him. He didn’t hear her words as a lead ball settled heavily in his throat.

“Sam,” John choked out, stuffing his feet in his boots, “grab our bags!” Instinctively he had his gun out checking the ammo as a familiar cry was muted through the wall. Gloria was almost frantically trying to force a cup of coffee into his furious hands. Instead he knocked the coffee aside and shoved her against the wall. “Do you have a key to your brothers’ room?”

“N-no!” she stuttered. “They just went for a walk!”

“Yeah she does,” Sam told him from where he was stuffing clothes into the last bag.

John glared harder at her and, relenting, Gloria pulled it from her pocket. “Where’s your other brother?”

“He went to get lunch,” she sobbed. Looking silently to his younger son, John wordlessly asked if she still spoke the truth. Before the boy could answer the cornered woman cried out, “Okay! They’re both next door!”

Tossing Sam the car keys, John led Gloria from the room, “Wait in the car.” Without looking to see if his son obeyed, he man-handled Gloria to the door of the next room ordering her to open it. She shakily obeyed her eyes darting furtively back to the gun he kept trained on her.

Sam hurried their bags to the car and watched his father from the safety of the impala’s backseat. He watched the woman get shoved roughly into the motel room and John disappear in after her. The silence that followed was almost too much for him as it stretched out seemingly forever. Finally, five minutes later, the door opened again and his dad reappeared, this time supporting a pale Dean. His older brother looked worse than the last time Sam had seen him – only an hour ago – and Sam practically leapt from the car to whip the passenger door open. None of them said a word as John helped his limping son into the seat then climbed into the driver’s seat, engine roaring to life as they sped away from the motel and the memories surrounding it.

When he couldn’t ignore the throbbing in his head anymore, John pulled over and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. Dean glanced back at Sam, worry and fear clear as their father’s shoulder shook with silent tears. “Dad?” the sixteen year old asked hesitantly.

Raising his reddened eyes, John turned and looked both his sons in the eye, “I’m so sorry. I should have listened better. I’m so sorry.”

Sam wanted to comfort his father, he really did, but he choked on the words before they would come. In truth, he agreed with the man, he should have listened to them. He should have protected them from Gloria and her brothers. They should never have been left with that woman in the first place.

Looking uncomfortable, Dean looked away first, clearing his throat and blinking his suspiciously wet eyes. “Are you good to drive still?” he asked finally.

Sam just stared at his brother. Dean was always the first to forgive their father of anything. To not hear him immediately offering forgiveness was an uncomfortable shock.

John’s shoulders sagged, “I can make it wherever you want to go.”

“Uncle Bobby’s…” it was almost a question, with a pleading note in his voice. Dean glanced back at his brother confirming that they both would feel safe there. With a nod their father turned back to the road, taking a minute to pull himself together and started them towards North Dakota. Dean looked like he wanted to say something…anything to their father, but instead swallowed harshly and turned to stare out the window. He watched the scenery blur past silently.

Sam wanted to ask his brother if Todd and Jeremy had done the same things to him that Gloria had done to him. He wanted to know that he wasn’t alone – that it was okay that it had felt good, but shame blocked his throat and the words never came. After the other times before, he had been able to hide and bury the shame where no one else could see it, but this time his father had been in the same room for most of it and Sam was having a harder time pushing it aside.

The first time Jeremy had only come there to keep Dean from interfering with Gloria’s time with little Sammy. The memories were hazy now, but the younger brother clearly remembered the angry shouts of his older brother cutting off suddenly. He remembered the fear that his brother was dead and he would never see him again. He didn’t remember biting Gloria, but she had cried out and backhanded him viciously. The few times Sam had seen Dean during that first stay, his shirtless chest was covered with welts and bruises and his eyes were downcast as he silently clenched his fists, teeth trembling with fear and rage.

It was in one of the later visits that Todd had joined them always disappearing to wherever Jeremy dragged Dean away to while Gloria lavished her attentions solely on Sam. He shuddered at the rise of memories, finally finding his voice, “What’d you do to them?”

“Not enough,” John growled, glowering at the road ahead. Dean looked like he agreed, but said nothing. “They won’t ever touch either one of you again.”

Deciding to trust his father’s determination, Sam nodded and left the conversation alone. “How long will we stay with Uncle Bobby?”

Their father shrugged, “As long as you want and he lets you.”

“You’ll stay with us too,” the younger boy said it as a statement, but the question was clear. Was he planning to leave them and run? Was he going to abandon them now that he knew? Dean was watching him expectantly now also. His expression harder to make out, but he was clearly hoping for a certain answer.

“As long as you want me to,” John answered after a moment.

“Good,” Dean grunted settling further into his seat.

Relieved that his older brother hadn’t been completely replaced by a pod person, Sam sat back. He was glad to see that his brother just needed time to forgive their father. It wouldn’t be long until the brothers would be butting heads again over Dean being too forgiving and obedient to John. For now he just took comfort in the fact that his brother would heal. “I’m sorry, Dean,” Sam said looking down at his lap. He heard more than saw Dean twisting around to look at him. “If it wasn’t for me –”

“None of this was your fault, Sammy,” Dean swore earnestly. “That – woman and her brothers are the ones to blame. You didn’t ask for any of it.”

Sam looked up into his older brother’s eyes, “but…she said – but I enjoyed it.”

“Did you?” John suddenly interjected. Sam could see his father’s knuckles whiten in his grip on the steering wheel. Both his sons turned towards him, “or was it your body simply reacting to the stimulus? Just because she made you react to the pleasure of it didn’t mean you enjoyed it or wanted it.”

Sam wanted to believe his father, but it almost seemed too simple. He just felt so…dirty. How could it not be his fault? As if reading his mind Dean added, “you don’t believe it yet, but know that I don’t blame you. None of this was your fault.”


End file.
